Lise walked a bit closer.

They could now see the insects boring into her skin, smell the earthy scent of her. "Yes, you are the daughters of Oberon, the one whom the wind whispers about. I know why you are here. You seek the one called the Iron King, yes? You wish to find the entrance into his realm."

"...Yes. " She answers.

She nods.

"As you are, you will not be able to save him," the Elder told them. "The Iron King waits for you in his lair of steel. He knows you are coming, and you will not be able to stop him. No weapon forged by mortal or fey can harm the Iron King. He fears nothing."

Ash stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully. "Elder," he murmured, "we were told you might know the secret to slaying the Iron King."

The ancient dryad regarded him solemnly. "Yes, young prince," she whispered. "You heard true. There is a way to kill Machina and end his reign. You need a special weapon, one that cannot be forged with tools, something as natural as a flower growing in the sunlight."

Ash leaned forward eagerly. "Where can we find this weapon?"

The Elder Dryad sighed, and seemed to shrink in on herself. "Here," she murmured, looking back at the great oak, her voice tinged with sadness. "The weapon you require is Witchwood, from the heart of the most ancient of trees, as deadly to Machina as iron is to normal fey. A living wood containing the spirit of nature and the power of the natural earth--a bane to the faeries of progress and technology. Without it, you cannot hope to defeat him and save the human child."

Ash fell silent, his face grim.

Isiea stays silent.

" how do we get it? "

"You do not know what you are asking. Witchwood is the heart of the Elder's tree. Without it, the oak will die, and so will the dryad connected to it," Grimalkin murmured from the grass

" so...we can't stop him. "

Isiea stays silent.